


sun on the water

by actualromeo



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slice of Life, canon typical peter being a bastard and martin being exhausted with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23740306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualromeo/pseuds/actualromeo
Summary: "Because, mercy of all mercies, Elias is in love. Terrible."Elias and Peter share a moment away from work. Mostly.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, implied Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 7
Kudos: 161





	sun on the water

**Author's Note:**

> do i ship lonelyeyes? not particularly. but a no powers au with peter as a very obnoxious very rich architect who Does What He Wants, martin as his long-suffering assistant, and elias as his husband? ideal.
> 
> why is peter an architect and not a ship captain? because i thought his speech about his tower block ritual in 159 was hilarious

Elias has always liked to consider himself an early riser. He never liked the laziness of staying in bed, though he could afford the luxury. Slipping into habits like that just felt-- below him, and he likes to be the only person awake in a house. Waking up at six on the dot is a point of pride, and even when he doesn’t quite make that, he at least prefers to be up first.

Which is why it’s something of a sting to wake up in their bed, alone, with the sun high in the sky. He doesn’t even realize, for a moment; it’s too cold, but Peter is always cold anyway. Sleepy and unaware, he calls, “Peter...” groping for the ridiculously broad body he married. He finds only the sheets and the cool ocean breeze of their vacation home. Still only halfway awake, he grumbles, allowing one moment to sulk that his husband left him. Then he pushes away the irrational betrayal and gets out of bed, getting ready for the day.

By the time he’s up and dressed it’s early afternoon, which is an _embarrassingly_ late hour to be awake, but. It’s his holiday. He is on holiday, with his husband, and he is allowed to sleep in. He’s been expressly forbidden from doing work, actually, though Peter hasn’t applied that same rule to himself. As he comes down the stairs and into the kitchen he can hear Peter’s chipper voice from the living room, and his assistant's tinny exasperation coming through his phone. “Peter-- no,” says Martin, and Elias hides his smile behind a cup of coffee, despite being in a different room. “You’re not calling it Silent Hill.”

“Why not?” says Peter petulantly. “It’s my own project, I don’t have to worry about the _marketability_ or whatever. I like the name.”

“You should worry about marketability, honestly-- ugh. Do you know what Silent Hill is. I want you to google Silent Hill.”

Peter makes an annoyed noise, and Elias finally enters the living room to see him splayed across the couch in nothing but a robe, legs kicked up on the arm and squinting at his phone. As fascinated as Peter’s been with the new smartphone, he’s not very good with it. Honestly, Elias isn’t sure he knows how to turn off speakerphone. “Silent Hill is a horror game series,” Elias informs him primly, shooing Peter until he can sit down on the couch with him.

“Very apt!” says Peter. “Horror games... Elias, dear, can we get our hands on them? I think I could work some of it into the design, make it a theme.”

Martin on the other end of the line sounds downright distressed when he says, “No! Peter, christ, you’re not theming the tower block around a horror franchise.”

“Why.. _not_.” 

“The copyright, for one thing. Also-- who-- why would anyone-- lord.” Martin sighs tersely, and Elias tugs Peter to adjust so that his head’s resting in his lap. He promptly leans up to plant a kiss to Elias’ jaw.

“If I offer you and your Archivist.. what a, cruise? That's the sort of thing young people are interested in, I think. Will you stop protesting?” asks Peter, who has now actually bothered to google Silent Hill on his phone. 

With a stunned pause, Martin says, “I don’t-- do cruises run this time of year?” Then: “By the way, he has a _name_.”

“Mm, well. A paid holiday, then?”

Elias flicks his husband’s temple. “Jon isn’t actually your to offer holiday to, you know.”

“Pleaasee,” Peter whines, tilting his head back to pout at Elias.

“You’re a child. First you steal my Archival Assistant--”

“He didn’t have the qualifications--”

“-- _Then_ you force me on a holiday,” he injects enough distaste in the word to quiet Peter a moment, “and now you’re trying to steal my Archivist too?”

Peter is silent, staring at Elias with obnoxious puppy-eyes, his phone resting on his half-bare chest. It’s not as though he actually plans on refusing him-- Jon’s gotten entirely caught up on Gertrude’s organizational system, even one assistant down, and good work does deserve a reward-- but he levels his husband with a Look anyway, because he has a reputation to keep up. Whether or not Jon will actually accept the holiday is... questionable, but ultimately not Elias’ problem. Martin is the one that breaks the silent back and forth with a quiet, “On-- holiday..? Didn’t you say you were on a work trip--?”

“Lord. Please don’t spread that around,” grumbles Elias, much to Peters delight. “It’s Peter’s fault.”

“I had to force him,” he says, ever-chipper and trying to drag Elias down for another kiss.

Batting him away, Elias says, “Get your paws off me, brute. Yes, fine, Jon can do what he wants. Do hang up now, Martin.”

“I still don’t think--” then Martin pauses, seeming to realize the fight is hopeless. “Alright! Fine, fine, I’ll take your bribe and shut up. _Gross_ , by the way.” Then, with a beep, Peter and Elias are alone. Humming contentedly, Peter sits himself up in Elias lap-- which is incredibly awkward, considering he’s rather taller than Elias-- and pulls him into a kiss. And, because Elias is, unfortunately, quite fond of the man, he lets him. Kisses back, even.

After a few long minutes of enjoying each other’s presence like the horribly enamored fools they are, he pulls back. “Weren’t we supposed to go out on your little boat today?” mumbles Elias into the space between their lips, tucking himself indulgently under his husband’s chin.

“Don’t insult the Tundra,” says Peter, tilting his head up to nip at him, making Elias push him away with a scowl. “She’s an heirloom.”

“Yes, I know the story, could’ve been a captain, your one true passion is the sea, architecture stole your dreams, etcetera etcetera. I also know that she’s a glorified yacht. Get dressed, and maybe I’ll suffer through another of your attempts to teach me how to sail it.”

Peter huffily moves off the couch, stretching obscenely. He doesn’t even bother to retie the robe when it falls undone, the lewd bastard he is. “Fine, if you’re so disgusted by me. Can you fix breakfast?”

“It’s one in the afternoon.”

“Time’s an illusion. Besides, shouldn’t cooking for your husband be in your,” Peter waves a hand, “Prude housewife DNA?”

Because it’s Peter, and because Peter has seen Elias in far worse moments, he allows himself to hide his face in his hands. “Please die,” he says, pained. 

“Only ‘cause you asked.” Peter’s a picture of revolting domestic bliss, leaning in to kiss Elias’ hair before making his way up the stairs. 

Disgusting sap that he is, it doesn’t even stop Elias from putting eggs and bacon on the stove. Because, mercy of all mercies, Elias is in love. Terrible.

**Author's Note:**

> im.. im very american and am probably not using some of these words right. thank u for reading.


End file.
